Red Roses
by The Temptress Rises
Summary: AU. My first fic! Full Summary Inside. Would you go beyond the ends of the earth for the one you loved?
1. Misguided Ghosts

**Tempy's notes: Yo. The name is Temptress, the Temptress Rises. You can call me Tempy. I like Tempy. Better call me that. Or I'll come up with a really good threat.**

**So, this is my first fanfic here on . I hope y'all like it. It's based on my favorite Greek myth. Brownie points if you guess correctly! (Seriously, earn five points and I send you a brownie.) **

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Dragon Ball Z_. All characters rightfully belong to Akira Toriyama, my sensei and inspiration.**

**Dedicated to my mother who fed me on fairy tales and myths. And to my dog, Spencer, for dragging me around the neighborhood.**

**Thanks to my parents for buying me this lovely computer, my Beta Reader iOc who is beyond amazing, and Akira Toriyama.**

**Summary: AU. After Videl accidentally steals a flower from the Ox King's garden, she finds herself in a rather peculiar predicament. She is engaged to his grandson— and she has no idea what he looks like! _Would you go beyond the ends of the earth for the one you loved?_**

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><p><strong>Red Roses<strong>

**by The Temptress Rises**

"**Love is much like a wild rose, beautiful and calm, but willing to draw blood in its defense." Mark Overby**

"**Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,  
>And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind."<br>William Shakespeare, **_**Mid-Summer Night's Dream**_

"**I learned the real meaning of love. Love is absolute loyalty. People fade, looks fade, but loyalty never fades. You can depend so much on certain people, you can set your watch by them. And that's love, even if it doesn't seem very exciting." Sylvester Stallone**

**Chapitre I**

**Misguided Ghosts**

I was born without a name.

My parents just called me "baby" or "son" or "child" or something along those lines. My mother wanted to name me after Einstein or Archimedes. My grandfather attempted to have my parents name me after him. I don't know many children willing to be named "Oxford" or "Ox King Jr." but it was what he had suggested, much to my mother's chagrin.

Speaking of my mother, she told me that I was named one day with my grandfather mentioned by father's adoptive father. She told me that when he was mentioned, I brightened up and giggled. It surprised all three of them, my mom, my dad and my grandfather. Apparently, I wasn't much of a giggler.

But there was still much celebration at this little feat for my small family.

As time drew on, we lost my father. His heart had given out on him. He left me, my grandfather, and my then pregnant mother. No one was quite sure what to do. For several months, we were at a loss.

We moved on, though. We had to. For my mother. For my then unborn brother. For their health. Heck, for my own health.

We were numb, true, but living. It took several years before we really started to live, other than just going through the motions of life. And we were finally happy again.

That made my grandfather's people happy. You see, he is the ruler of a small village. He never held an iron fist above them. He's quite gentle, you see. His is quite loved.

Despite his tenderness for his people, he is weary of foreigners. His laws against them are quite strict.

It was because of one of these laws that I found myself in a rather unusual predicament.

And to think, it all started on a rather normal day, too.

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><p><strong>Tempy's endnotes: Interesting, no? I wanted to write more, but then I would have been switching character point of views and a lot of people find that annoying (myself included). Plus, my BR advised me not to, thank you iOc. <strong>


	2. Right as Rain

**Tempy's notes: You know a good book? **_**Dancing in Red Shoes will Kill You**_** by Dorian Cirrone. It's hilarious. The opening line is a hoot and then some. (Yes, iOc, I borrowed that from you. Don't sue.) You know another good book? **_**The Heretic Queen**_** by Michelle Moran. Absolutely beautifully written.**

**Anyway, second chapter! Whoop! Hope y'all enjoy! …Exclamation point! :facepalm:**

**Anyway, in response to Mr Blue22's review, I should make some things clear: There are Saiyans and Namekians. The Cell Game **_**did**_** happen, but Hercule didn't take the credit for it. A lot of this will be explained in upcoming chapters. This is an AU, so things will be different than the cannon. And the chapters will get longer, this I swear! (Thank you to iOc for helping me to understand fanfic slang. She does so much for me. XOXO)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Dragon Ball Z**_**. All characters rightfully belong to Akira Toriyama, my sensei and inspiration.**

**Summary: AU. After Videl accidentally steals a flower from the Ox King's garden, she finds herself in a rather peculiar predicament. She is engaged to his grandson— and she has no idea what he looks like! **_**Would you go beyond the ends of the earth for the one you loved?**_

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><p><strong>Red Roses<strong>

**By The Temptress Rises**

**Chapitre II**

**Right as Rain**

"The monsters came again last night."

"Hm?" my blonde friend hummed, her blue eyes glazed as she gazed out at the practice fields. I could see the morons known as male teens wrestling in a large pile, trying to take down the dumbest of them all. Sad to say, we were friends with that idiot.

"The monsters." I told her, popping a pomegranate seed into my mouth. It burst with a bitter, sweet juice. The pit crunched softly between my teeth. "They came back."

"You've been seeing them for years now, right?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Yeah. Since mom…"

"I know."

We sat in silence for a few moments, swinging our legs. The fence surrounding the practice fields wasn't the most comfortable place to sit, but it was either there or the grass. There were two things that stopped me from sitting on the soft pasture, one was my friend, Erasa, and the other was my nursemaid Aplonia. Erasa would freak if she got grass stains on her clothes and Aplonia would skin me alive if I discolored mine.

Speaking of Aplonia…

"Lady Satan!" she shrieked out, seeing me on the fence.

I winced, but glad that none of the boys noticed, yet. Key word: Yet.

"Hullo, Aplonia." I murmured, brushing my hair behind my ear nervously.

"Look at you, sitting on a dirty fence! You're ruqun is soiled." she scolded, clucking her tongue.

A ruqun is simply a blouse, a skirt, and a waist skirt tied at the middle wish a sash. Typically, it's adorned with a jade ornament. While normal women of noble birth would wear shoes made of fine silk, I wore simple straw sandals. They could stand up to the abuse that I tended to dish out on a normal day. The little, flimsy silk things, not so much.

"It's not soiled." I turned around, praying that the silk of my skirt didn't tear as I did. I slid off and brushed out any wrinkles and dirt that may have clung to the fabric.

Aplonia jostled me so that she could see my behind. She eyed the skirt. After a few seconds, she nodded and let me go. There was no damage done.

"Your father paid a pretty pound for this particular fabric and he paid another pretty pound for the seamstress to make this ruqun." she told me.

"You came all of the way here to tell me that? I already knew all of that."

"You forgot your banbi." She held out the small jacket. I slipped it on, begrudgingly, and she tied the ribbons into a bow. "There, little dumpling, pretty as a doll."

I tried not to scowl at her comment, but she could read me easier than the fortune teller can read tea leaves.

My scowl had nothing to do with being called pretty, it had to do with the fact that the boys might overhear, suddenly realize I was a girl, and have a fear of breaking me if they so much as _breathed_ in my direction. It would be the end of my life as I knew it, and I wasn't ready for it to end just yet. Or at all.

Luckily for me, the moronic group was too wrapped up in their wrestling to notice the disturbance. Really, it was a blessing, seeing as how loud Aplonia was being and all.

"Misses Erasa, I do believe that your mother needs you. Something about visiting relatives." Aplonia said rather slyly, even for her.

"Oh, thank you, Aplonia!" Erasa gasped. "I completely forgot. Vi, I'll call for you when my family leaves. I should only be a few days. You can tell me about your dream and any others you might have until then. Bye!"

She shuffled off, the skirt of her ruqun trailing just slightly on the ground, fluttering in the way I wished that mine would. I had a tendency to… trip over them. True, I was graceful but only to the point that any one else was.

"Oh, bah!" Aplonia grunted, she lifted up my sleeve. "You've gone and stained it!"

Oops.

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><p>"I'm not that dirty!" I protested, trying to stand up in the wooden tub only to be pushed back down by Aplonia. "The sleeve was dirty, not me!"<p>

"Hush!" she scolded. "Now, Misses Erasa said something about dreams? Lady Satan, what, may I ask, are these dreams about?"

"Monsters."

"Monsters? What kind of monsters? Nightmarish?"

"Of course, only they're worse."

"How so?"

"They don't try to eat my flesh or gouge my eyes out and let me die peacefully in my dreams. Oh, they do something much worse." I paused to add dramatic effect. Aplonia's eyes glinted with mischief, she knew what I was going to say next but she wanted to humor me. "They make me wear the loveliest ruquns you've ever seen."

"Just ruquns?"

"Uh-huh."

"I'm sure." she chuckled. "Now, what do they really do?"

"Not much." I wrinkled my nose, out of habit, mostly, when I was thinking but also due to with the fact that the soap that was rather pungent. It was a combination of both this time. I was glad when it was washed out. I traced my fingers through the growing suds. "They destroy villages and towns, shoot these… ray-things out of their eyes and mouths, and howl at the sky and stuff like that. They seem… sad. At least, their howls do."

"They don't really sound like monsters."

I shrugged. "It's just what Erasa and I call them. Physically, they're only monsters but mentally, they're something more."

She hummed, taking a comb to my hair. She stopped and I heard bottles softly clanking together. I turned to see her looking through the scented oils. She chose one (was it tea rose or jasmine?) and started to comb it through my hair. (It was jasmine.)

"You have forgotten about the trip already, I see." she clucked.

"Trip?"

"Yes, you are going with your father, don't you remember?"

Oh, _that_ trip.

I stood up, slapped a big goofy grin on my face and lied:

"I can't wait."

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><p><strong>Tempy's endnotes: A ruqun and a banbi are Chinese clothes. It's really the best way to describe them. If you can't picture a ruqun, think of what Mulan was wearing in <strong>_**Mulan**_** (the one with the green top and the pale yellow skirt). A banbi is a cropped jacket that ties in the front and it has short sleeves. It's not fun to wear a ruqun or a banbi (as I know this from personal experience), and I laughed at the idea of having Videl wear one. Ah, my trips to visit my family. Fun times.**

**Aplonia's name derives from the word "apple," by the way.**

**Like I said before, chapters will be longer in upcoming chapters. My intro. chapters for the two main leads were going to be short, no matter what I did. So… forgiveness? Maybe? Yes? Not no?**

**Thank you two my lovely reviewers, the wonderful people who added this to their favorites list and the two who added this to their alerts list. Muffins for you folks!**


	3. Daphne

**Tempy's notes: Er, I just figured out how to switch the anonymous review thingy on. So, I now accept anonymous reviews. Yay!**

**Anyway, the third chapter. It's longer than the previous two.**

**I'm really glad that people are enjoying this (a shoutout to 22!). :-D **

**MindyKinamoto:** I get plenty of viewers, but my anonymous review thing was off. I don't really mind not getting a lot of reviews though. No one ever really starts off getting a lot (or so I've been told). I was thinking about putting that summary up. Instead, I've just posted "Full Summary Inside."

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Dragon Ball Z**_**. All characters rightfully belong to Akira Toriyama, my sensei and inspiration.**

**Summary: AU. After Videl accidentally steals a flower from the Ox King's garden, she finds herself in a rather peculiar predicament. She is engaged to his grandson— and she has no idea what he looks like! **_**Would you go beyond the ends of the earth for the one you loved?**_

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><p><strong>Red Roses<strong>

**By The Temptress Rises**

**Chapitre III**

**Daphne**

"Gohan! Gohan!" a perky voice cried as its owner bounced on my bed in his attempt to wake me. I knew, from experience, if I didn't acknowledge his presence, he would keep it up for over ten minutes.

"Yes, Goten?" I managed to grumble out in my normal morning slur.

"Mama says that it's time to wake up because… because… because… because… Breakfast!" the boy said, landing on my arm. I groaned. He wasn't heavy, he just landed on a nerve. If you've never had that done to you, it's quite the painful experience.

"I'm up! I'm up." It came out sounding like "Immup! Immup."

I tossed the blankets aside and swung my legs off the side of my bed. I flinched at the lack of heat of the stone floor. Goten rolled into my lap as I rubbed my eyes of any gunk that collected there while I was asleep.

"You better hurry up, she was having a temper tan… trantr… tantrumen." he said, struggling with the word.

"Tantrum, Goten. Tantrum. Now, off. You said I had to hurry."

He did and left while I dressed for the day ahead. I found him rocking back and forth on his heels, singing a nursery rhyme our mother used to sing to us.

"Red dragonflies,Red dragonflies,On the rocks gently they stop; On the water gently they stop; In the breeze gently they stop."

I smiled, remembering when I used to sing it. It had still been when our father was alive, before Goten. I shook my head, clearing my mind of the bad memories. It had been a little over six years ago but it was still on the back of my mind.

"Surprised you didn't go down before me." I told him.

"Mama said I couldn't go back down without you." he said, then he whispered, "I'm afraid that she'll make me… _study_."

I snickered. Our mother wanted us both to be scholars. It was, apparently, necessary if you were a prince. Yes, I am sadly a prince. My life involves countless hours learning how to count and categorize, speaking in foreign tongues, playing musical instruments, reading ancient texts, and understanding the ways of the court. Somehow, I had extra time in the day to spar with my family's friend, a silent and violent man who was heir to the throne of his family's kingdom, when he visits. He managed to send me flat on my behind every time. When he's not here, I'll practice with my brother or the few guards we have.

Our mother, a proud and kind woman who is not afraid to discipline her children, dislikes the fact that my brother and I fight. Our father used to and it reminds her of him. We try not to in front of her, but for the most part she doesn't go near the practice grounds.

She makes up for the fact that our father isn't there by cooking. She's _always_ cooking. It's because my brother and I eat a lot. Not just "a lot" as in "high metabolism a lot," I mean "a lot" as is "the meal of forty men a lot." It's freakish, I know. You see, my brother and I aren't exactly human. We're half; the other part is called Saiyan. Saiyans eat a lot. They're programmed to fight, so we need a lot to eat.

So, when I came downstairs and found my mother in the kitchen, the table set for an army, and my grandfather waiting patiently, I though that it was going to be a normal day.

"Morning." I said, kissing my mother on her cheek as she finished the eggs.

"Good morning, sleepyhead." she hummed. "Did you wash your hands and face?"

"Yes, mom."

"Comb your hair?"

"It's always messy! No matter what I do, it won't lay flat!"

"I just asked if you combed it and I see that you didn't. Don't waste time right now going all the way back to your room, breakfast is ready. You can fix your hair after we eat."

"Oh-kay then."

"Sit down." she said, spooning the eggs into a bowl. "Goten, did you wash your hands?"

"Uh, yes, mama." he lied.

She rolled her eyes.

"Go wash them."

"Aw!" he groaned sliding off his chair and over to the water basin in the corner. He grumbled the whole way there, through his whole wash, and the whole way back.

"Thank you." our mom said, pecking him on the cheek.

He rubbed it off with the back of his hand in the way a child does when they were disgusted. The rest of us chuckled to ourselves.

Our mom sat down in her chair and we said our breakfast prayer in unison.

"God bless!"

And soon, my brother and I we shoveling food from plates, bowls, and platters to our personal plates and into our mouths. It didn't take long for us to eat, maybe fifteen minutes at the most. We left the table crumb free. Nothing was left uneaten.

I patted my stomach in content.

A wrap on the door caught our attention.

"Uh, Your Highnesses?" said a voice.

"Yes?" our mother asked, sitting up straighter. "Come in."

"There are foreigners in our garden. We don't recognize what court they're from."

"Gohan, would you mind checking them out?"

"Uh, sure." I said, blinking. My mother never sent me to do something like this. Then again, they were foreigners who probably spoke a different language than that of our small country's. Our small collection of guards may know how to read and how to work mathematical equations, but they didn't speak any other language.

I dusted myself off and nodded to the guard.

"Let's go." I said, grabbing his wrist and another guard's.

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><p>We found the small group in a shady grove, watering their horses. They were a small party; a tall man with many muscles, a handful of guards, two middle-aged women, an older woman, and a small, young woman.<p>

They appeared to nothing out of the ordinary. They were just passing through. We could only act if they did something illegal.

We crouched up a hill, hidden by foliage, watching them silently.

My eyes studied them. The tall man was obviously important. The way that he carried himself, his clothes, and his mannerisms told me that. The two middle aged women were talking to themselves, the older woman, and the younger woman. They seemed to be discussing something that I couldn't hear. The older woman was quite obviously a nursemaid to the younger woman. Now, it was this younger woman that caught my eye.

I could tell from my position that she was around my age, maybe a year younger, and I could see that she was rather pretty. She was the daughter of the tall man, anyone would be able to see that. She wasn't full of herself, but she didn't lack confidence. She reminded me of a nymph from a myth. I couldn't quite recall the name of this particular nymph or the story, but there was quite a bit resemblance.

My eyes trailed her every move. For some time, she sat debating something but obviously got annoyed and started walking around. She meandered over to a patch of flowers and inhaled their scent.

I sniffed upon instinct. My mind remembered a ghost of a scent of those exact flowers. I smiled.

And then, she plucked one.

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><p><strong>Tempy's endnotes: So, I wanted to get this up earlier but I couldn't. :-P Oh well. Sorry if there is spelling or grammar mistakes or something. I didn't send this to iOc like a usually do. I'll more than likely get her to look it over and then repost this with any corrections.<strong>

**Ah, I need sleep. Goodnight. Zzzz…**


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